Obedience
by HigherMagic
Summary: When Dean came back from Hell, he was whole. No piece of him had been left behind – nothing was ripped to shreds inside of him. He was totally, completely, overwhelmingly whole. It's just that there's a little bit extra. Demon!Dean/Castiel/Gabriel.
1. More Than Whole

**Title: **More Than Whole  
**Author: **HigherMagic  
**Pairings: **Slight Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** PG  
**Word Count: **~1,200  
**Spoilers: **Dean was in Hell. Gabriel exists.  
**Summary: **When Dean came back from Hell, he was whole. No piece of him had been left behind – nothing was ripped to shreds inside of him. He was totally, completely, overwhelmingly whole. It's just that there's a little bit extra.  
**Notes/Warnings: **Um…There's a moderately Dean/Gabriel vibe but it's not sexual.  
Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

* * *

When Dean came back from Hell, he was whole. No piece of him had been left behind – nothing was ripped to shreds inside of him. He was totally, completely, overwhelmingly whole.

It's just that there's a little bit _extra_. A small, living, breathing part of him that shouldn't be there. It's a part of him that looks at his brother with an overwhelming sense of awe and devotion, and that looks at Castiel with hatred and fear and disgust.

It snarls whenever the Seraph is in the room, purrs when it's just him and Sam. When Sam's strong, and powerful, and fighting, the darkness of Ruby's demon taint swirling like a hypnotic maelstrom inside of him, the thing that is inside of Dean, that serves the darkness in Sam, rolls over and begs for its master, its leader and General.

"I don't know what to do."

His hands are shaking. There are tears in his eyes. He doesn't know who to turn to – doesn't know, because the thing's not letting him. Won't let him seek help.

Castiel knows. Castiel has always known, because he's the one that put Dean back together, that took all the broken, scattered and shredded pieces of Dean's soul and healed him and formed him into the perfection he had been before. He'd seen the presence inside of Dean.

It's the dark, twisted part of him that formed in Hell for him to survive. If you can't seduce the darkness, it seduces you. That's what undercover cops working in drug rings will say when they've gone rogue. Dean's gone rogue, and he carries the scar inside of him.

It's a heavy, overbearing presence in the room, in the Impala, dark and malevolent and evil. It snarls and has claws and flashing black eyes and serrated, wicked teeth behind Dean's face. Sam can sense it even if he doesn't know what _it _is. Castiel can sense it.

It snarls at Castiel, defiant and angry and when that happens Dean's so terrified that it makes him turn away and long for the blade he'd wielded so easily in Hell, so that maybe he can cut the taint out of himself once and for all, but _it _won't let him.

"I'm not strong enough to keep it at bay," Castiel says, as he cradles Dean's face in his hands and holds the sorrow of many, many millennia in his eyes. "It is too powerful to fall under my influence."

Tears run down the Hunter's face, and he closes his eyes, tries to fight them back. The _presence_ snarls at Castiel's touch, fights against it because it burns where Castiel's skin is against his, and Dean thinks for a stupid, terrifying moment that maybe Castiel can just burn it out of him. But he can't, because he's not strong enough anymore.

As Sam grows stronger, so does the darkness inside of Dean, willing and eager to serve its general and master.

"You have to help me, Cas," he begs, pleads, grabbing onto clothing and skin, whatever he can dig his fingers into, and Castiel shivers, eyes closing, resting his forehead against Dean's, because he's thinking. He's trying to come up with a solution that means Dean won't be lost to the darkness.

"Will you do whatever it takes?" he whispers, eyes flashing open again.

Dean's eyes are dark – there's a swirling evil in his pupils and it's starting to overtake his eyes. They don't have long before the Righteous Man falls completely. He swallows, and nods, because he doesn't have any other choice.

He's not expecting the Trickster, mostly because he's very abruptly aware that it's _not _a Trickster. It shines too brightly and hurts his eyes. The _presence _inside of him growls feral, the black overtakes his entire iris and his body goes on the defensive, cornered animal meeting Alpha Male as Gabriel steps forward.

"You did right bringing me here," he says to the Seraph, who's watching the proceedings solemnly. There's no mirth on the Trickster's face, because this isn't a time for jokes anymore. Dean's essence recoils and snarls again at the sound of the Angel's voice, high-pitched and grating. He bares teeth which are bloody, and his fingers curl into fists, weapons ready to be put to use.

A wave of the Archangel's hand and he's immobilized. The presence snarls again, because Gabriel is powerful, so much more powerful than Castiel. He approaches and Dean recoils, overtaken by the animal inside of him, by the evil, and it _hurts _when Gabriel touches him, takes his chin in hand, and Dean falls to his knees. The bright light of the Archangel's Grace burns into his skin and it feels like he's being branded, even though Gabriel will leave no mark.

"You serve _me_, now," Gabriel snarls softly, baring his own teeth in answer, and Dean growls, the darkness fighting against his hold, but Gabriel's far too powerful and if there's anything a demon craves, it's power. Gabriel is much, much more powerful than Sam can ever hope to become. A shift of Gabriel's hand and the snarling turns into a purr, a decadent kind of complacency and contentment, and in the back of his mind Dean shudders with relief that the evil seems to recede inside of him.

A gentle hand pets through his hair, rewarding his submission, and Dean whines again, flashing black eyes up to Gabriel who's watching him with that same kind of stoic resignation. He presses his fingers against Dean's head, splayed out so his pinky and third finger press against the Hunter's neck, and Dean willingly bares his throat, the darkness completely surrendering to something so powerful, despite how Holy and _pure_ that power might be. His eyes slowly start to become green again.

"You will obey," Gabriel whispers, dragging his fingers along the racing line of Dean's pulse, able to sense the darkness' eagerness to please him, and Dean whines and nods, blinking up eyes that are more Hunter than Demon. They shine with relief even though Dean's not quite sure what Gabriel means by 'obey'. Gabriel's other hand comes forward, combs through his hair, and Dean's eyes fall closed. He sags in Gabriel's arms and the Angel kneels to catch him. Castiel is suddenly there too, laying a hand across the mark on Dean's shoulder. "You will obey _him_."

The darkness flares, righteous and angry at the thought of serving something so much weaker than Gabriel, but Castiel still holds power – it thrums into Dean's skin, feeding the darkness and making it curl up and purr like a contented jungle cat. Another hand goes through his hair and he's not sure which Angel wields it.

"It is done," Gabriel says softly, and Dean wants to say something – anything – or give some sign that he realizes what the Angel has done, wants to thank him for it – but he can't form words. He just clutches at a shirt-clad forearm and makes a low, desperate sound. "I know, Dean-o," the Angel says with a soft kind of watered-down Trickster voice, and Dean can hear the smile in it. "You're okay now." A pause. "He's okay now."

Dean opens his eyes to find Gabriel and Castiel watching each other, before Castiel nods and rests his forehead against Gabriel's briefly, thanking him, and Dean sobs in relief when Gabriel's hand leaves, and the presence inside of him shifts, stirs, but doesn't revolt again. He's safe.

He's not healed, but he's been made dormant. Been made non-threatening.

Safe.


	2. You Will Obey You Can't Not

**Title:** You Will Obey. You Can't Not.  
**Author:** HigherMagic  
**Pairings**: Demon!Dean/Castiel/Gabriel  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Word Count:** ~2,400  
**Spoilers: **Gabriel exists. Dean was in Hell.  
**Summary:** Gabriel's furious. Dean and the thing that is inside of Dean can tell when the Archangel flies into the room, summoned there by Castiel who's currently pinned against a wall by Dean's hand – but it's not Dean's hand, because Dean's fighting, as much as he can. One of his eyes is black, the other green, and it's a weird effect, seeing both Hunter and demon inside of him, face twisted in a mix of anger and pain.  
**Notes/Warnings: **Sequel to More Than Whole because people wanted to see some more Demon!Dean/Gabriel/Castiel. I wanted to make it porny but it just didn't swing that way. Sigh. Maybe next time.  
Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

* * *

Gabriel's furious. Dean and the thing that is inside of Dean can tell when the Archangel flies into the room, summoned there by Castiel who's currently pinned against a wall by Dean's hand – but it's not Dean's hand, because Dean's fighting, as much as he can. One of his eyes is black, the other green, and it's a weird effect, seeing both Hunter and demon inside of him, face twisted in a mix of anger and pain.

Castiel's choking – Dean's demon side is strong and relentless and the falling Seraph feels the dark power in his Grace, knows how very capable Dean is of killing him, or making him cease existence on this plane. The Seraph's blue eyes are wide and pretty and Dean cocks his head to one side, the dark side of him smiling in pleasure at seeing someone so pretty and powerful at his mercy.

"Gabriel," he purrs in a voice made of venom and razors, turning his black eye towards the Archangel, who growls at the sight of him. "You made it."

And tailed on the end of that line is a desperate plea; _Help me. Stop me. Please._

Gabriel's powerful. So powerful. The _presence_ can feel his pulsating Grace in the room and it rolls over and begs for it, not contented with following orders from what is essentially cannon fodder – Castiel. When Gabriel walks forward and presses a hand against Dean's neck, the demon side of him purrs, his eyes sliding closed but going completely black, the hand around Castiel's neck, holding him still, choking him as it tightens.

"Gabriel," Castiel growls out, panicked but stoic as well. Gabriel nods.

"You've disobeyed," he murmurs into Dean's ear, can feel it when the darkness turns like a loyal guard dog towards its master's voice, how it sits on its haunches and begs for attention and treats. But its master is not kind today – Gabriel is not merciful. Not with Castiel's death on his hands or the threat of it in Dean's blood.

A thread of Grace comes from the Angel and strikes Dean right in his heart. He gasps, eyes flying open green and bright and falls to his knees in front of Gabriel, hissing and snarling as the darkness inside of him fights back against its master's painful touch. He wants to fight and Dean's body's up and moving before the Hunter or the Angels can stop him – he's almost to the door before he's pinned. He can't move.

He looks up and snarls at the Devil's Trap painted onto the ceiling.

Whirling around, he can see Gabriel and Castiel staring at him with stoic eyes. Dean's own flash black. "Release me," he growls, baring his teeth that have serrated edges behind his face, and the Angels share a look. Amidst the rough, low echo of a growl of the _presence's_ voice is Dean's, pleading, begging – _Help me. Stop me. Please._

"You disobeyed," Gabriel repeats, stepping forward, and the demon-Hunter backs away, flinches when he hits the walls of the Devil's Trap and Gabriel steps right on in with him, unaffected. It burns when Gabriel touches him this time and Dean flinches away again, whining, apologetic – there are tears in his jade eyes.

"I'm sorry," he cries, but they all know he's lying – they know the _presence_ is speaking for him and it won't do. It won't do.

"I told you that you will obey, and you will serve, and you did neither." Dean whimpers, trembling, but there's relief in his burning, wet eyes and he's curving towards Gabriel, seeking out the Archangel's power and the brand of his Grace against Dean's Hell-warm flesh. Gabriel's eyes flash to Castiel who steps forward as well. "Those who sin are punished, Dean," he whispers, grabbing a hold of the hair at the back of Dean's head and jerking the Hunter forward, and Dean stumbles but just manages to stay upright, colliding with the invisible barrier of the edge of the Trap. He whines again when Gabriel's hand shifts to the back of his neck and the Archangel pulls him once more, manhandling him until Dean's crouched in front of Gabriel, staring up into the creature's glowing eyes, and he's so _powerful_, Dean's darkness can only imagine how much glory there is inside that vessel, and his eyes go black at that. His mouth waters, and he whines again like a fucking animal. "Do you want to be punished?"

Dean feels amusement slide through him and he laughs – it's a harsh, short, sharp sound. "Depends," he purrs, drawing the word out, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and Gabriel's expression twists into a grim kind of dissatisfaction. He's furious and Dean can tell and it just makes the Archangel's hands burn hotter when they land on Dean's skin and pull him up.

Castiel's suddenly behind him and Dean can feel the heat of their Graces burning him where they touch, and he cries out, feeling agonized sparks of white go off behind his eyes. It _hurts_, _fuck_ does it hurt – so much. The Hunter moans brokenly and wants to get away, to retreat, but they've trapped him in and there's nowhere to run.

He sinks his teeth into the side of Gabriel's neck and the Archangel shudders, grabbing Dean more firmly around the waist and Castiel's hands go to Dean's arms, holding him back, taking away his leverage and his fight and the darkness whimpers, rolling this body it has found and overcome. The Hunter that Dean is recoils from the thought of Angel blood in his mouth but the demon side of him just purrs, tasting the power and dangerous edge of purity and it cuts his own mouth open. Dean turns to the side and coughs up blood onto Gabriel's neck.

"Were you bored? Is that what this is?" Gabriel growls out, taking Dean's chin in hand and forcing their eyes to meet, and Dean whines, baring his bloodied teeth, eyes flickering black, green, black again. "Just testing the waters to see what I would let you get away with?"

"I don't serve machine gun fodder," Dean snarls. _Help me. Stop me. Please._

Gabriel's expression changes – his lips twist up into a knowing smirk, and there's a dangerous light in his eyes that sets Dean's hair on end and makes him shiver with fear and awe. He feels like he'd fall if Castiel weren't holding him up. Gabriel's other hand strokes through his hair and Dean purrs, the darkness submits at the touch, wanting, lusting after that powerful Grace that hums under Gabriel's skin, and Castiel's as well. With them both there, all three of them within the ring of the Devil's Trap, it feels like they're amplifying each other and Dean's still powerless and the presence loves that. It whines with need, makes Dean purr and nuzzle into the hand at his jaw and the mouth he can feel at the back of his neck. It rolls Dean's hips back onto Castiel's, delights in the little shiver and flare of pheromones and desire it can smell.

Dean hums, smiling and leaning his head back, eyes closed and black again and Gabriel's eyes meet his brother's over Dean's shoulder.

"This can't keep happening," Gabriel whispers, stoic and serious. He can still see the phantom marks on Castiel's neck where he'd almost been choked.

Castiel nods. "What do you suggest?"

"We bind it. Fuse them both together and then claim them," Gabriel replies, removing his hands from Dean's face and the demon whines at the loss of contact but can't fight against Castiel's hold. Castiel's eyes widen at the suggestion, but it is the best one he can think of, and so he nods. "This will be painful for you," Gabriel warns, talking to both Dean and Castiel but only the Seraph nods, giving any kind of sign that he heard Gabriel. Dean's still just whining like a mindless, pained animal, Grace burning through him and the restrictions of the Trap make him feel confined and restless. He wants _out._

_Help me. Stop me. Please._

With a wave of Gabriel's hand the Trap disappears and Dean sags, black slamming into the backs of his eyes and he growls when the Angels' hands start to heat up, start burning like the fires of Hell and for one stupid, terrifying moment, Dean imagines that he's back there. The terror punches into his gut like a wrecking ball and, in response, the _presence_ growls, snarls knowingly and fights against the restrictive hold of Gabriel and Cas, fights them for dominance over his body, because this body belongs to _it_, not to them.

"I remade him," Castiel growls into Dean's ear, and the Hunter shivers, locked inside his own body.

"I cradled him before he became _you_," Gabriel says just as lowly, his hand fitting perfectly along the line of Dean's neck, thumb dipping into the hollow of Dean's throat, and Castiel's hand moves to Dean's shoulder, sliding there imperfectly because of the way they're standing together.

Feeling the burn of their touch, Dean snarls, baring teeth that are serrated and covered in blood, and opens black eyes inside the face of a skull. "_Release me_," he hisses in a voice that has layers and octaves, that quivers with malevolence and hatred, and Gabriel's mouth twists in a grim smile.

He shakes his head and presses harder, and the Angels' hands burn up and brand the Hunter's body with their Graces. Dean screams, feeling the raw power of the Angels' Graces searing through him, but they're not helping him. They're hurting – _God, _it hurts so much. They're not separating this darkness from him – they're not banishing it, and he swallows back his initial feeling of betrayal, wanting to trust Castiel and Gabriel because they had helped…before.

There are two sides – the _presence_ and Dean himself. The Angel's Graces are the white-hot current that solders them together, making them one solid unit, and Dean cries out at the raw razor feeling of the darkness scraping over his soul, locking them together like pieces of a puzzle. The Angels' make them glow white-hot and sear them together with pieces of themselves.

The seal takes form of a handprint on Dean's shoulder, where Castiel had healed him before, and on his throat and neck where Gabriel's hand is. It isn't the most discrete place but Gabriel likes his marks of ownership to show.

Dean's sobbing when he comes back to himself, able to push past the darkness and the whiteness of the Angels, and his body is burning. He feels raw and opened, like on the rack, like his chest cavity is opened wide and exposed. He still can't touch anything – he's being held back and he's not aware of any other sensation than the hands on him. His knees hurt where he's fallen to them but that's all.

"_Cas_," he gasps out, whines when he feels the Angel's answering rumble. _"Gabriel."_

"We're right here, kiddo," Gabriel answers softly, and there's a gentle hand carding through Dean's hair and he whimpers again, leaning into the touch. The darkness shifts inside of him, responding to the power of the Angel's Grace and surges forward, makes Dean's eyes go black underneath his closed lids and he gasps, his body tensing up. "Shh, Dean, it's alright. Relax. We need this to happen."

"You are safe, Dean – we won't let this thing hurt you anymore."

Unable and unwilling to resist the Angels, Dean lets himself relax and stops fighting. The darkness surges up again but doesn't push him to one side. It can't because Dean's fixed to it as well. He can still feel and control his actions and what he's doing. His eyes fly open at the revelation. One of them is black, the other green.

"Gabriel," he purrs, the presence's voice in his own but the relief is all Dean. When Dean's hands move and Castiel lets him go, the movements are all Dean. The Hunter rubs at his neck, wincing at the soreness and biting his lower lip. "What did you do?"

"We sealed you both together," Castiel whispers, and Dean turns to look at him out of the corner of his black eye. "Its power, but your will."

"Or ours," Gabriel finishes.

Dean frowns. "Yours?"

The Archangel nods, brushing his hand along the print and Dean shivers at the electric touch, wanting to shy away from it and press into it at the same time. It's the darkness pressing into the touch but the Hunter leans back against his Angel.

"So, what, you made me your slave or something?" he asks, fear and anger ringing in his voice and the darkness agrees – it snarls behind Dean's face. The lights flicker overhead in response to Dean's aggression.

"This was the only way, Dean, calm down!" Castiel whispers, holding his Hunter again and whispering the words into Dean's ear and the Hunter shudders, lids closing over his weird, mismatched eyes. He clenches his jaw and tries to force himself to relax, unable to disobey. Fear flickers in his eyes again when he opens them, realizing what he just did.

"You will be safe with us," Gabriel says, stepping forward to close the gap between them. Dean notices that the dark side of him gravitates towards the Archangel, while the Hunter, the human side of him, stays close to Castiel. "We won't abuse our power."

"You are in full control."

"Except where you guys are," Dean snaps, but there's no heat. The relief is too strong. He closes his eyes, pressing against the dark side of him, forcing it back and turning so he's dominant inside himself, and both eyes go green.

_You've helped me. You've stopped me. Thank you._

Castiel smiles a little and presses his cheek to the back of Dean's neck. The Hunter relaxes a little, more so when Gabriel places a hand on him too. This is more permanent – this isn't a choice anymore, and Dean doesn't feel unsafe anymore. He knows he won't slip up because he _can't_. _They_ won't allow it. He's powerless and that makes him safe again.

_Thank you._

"Always, Dean," Castiel whispers, and Dean sighs out a breath and says nothing.


	3. Lock Me In

**Title: **Lock Me In  
**Author:** HigherMagic  
**Pairings: **Demon!Dean/Castiel/Gabriel  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Word Count: **~3,500  
**Spoilers:** Gabriel exists. Dean was in Hell.  
**Summary:** They had tried to keep Dean as independent as possible, so that Dean didn't feel like a slave. But it hadn't worked. The darkness goes into full-on rebellion whenever both Castiel and Gabriel are not present.  
**Notes/Warnings: **Again, no porn this time. I'll get there eventually.  
Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

* * *

They've begun to call them 'episodes' – little instances where Dean will have to concentrate, to fight against the desire to follow Sam when he is dark and powerful and so completely all-encompassing. Where Dean will turn his black-ringed eyes to whichever Angel is present with a pleading expression, and the Angel will lay a hand on him and the _presence_ will calm itself.

They had tried to keep Dean as independent as possible, so that Dean didn't feel like a slave. But it hadn't worked. The darkness goes into full-on rebellion whenever both Castiel and Gabriel are not present – when it's just Dean and Sam and Dean has to swallow back his desire to please his General, the frantic _need_ to bask in the glow of Sam's increasing powers and his omnipotent affection. Dean hates Ruby and loves her at the same time – it just depends which line of thought he's taking.

Castiel and Gabriel are not insensitive to Dean's inner struggles – of course they aren't; they're the ones helping him. But they're trying to keep some semblance of free will with Dean – they don't want him to be a mindless creature bent to their will. That's not the whole point of this. The point is to keep Dean under control.

But it isn't working.

Dean keeps…_slipping up_.

His loyalties have always been torn. Before…_before_, it was Sam and Dad. Then Sam and Dad's legacy. Then Sam and the world, and now…now it's split three ways – between Sam, and Castiel, and Gabriel, and it's tearing him apart from the inside. The join where the two parts of Dean are locked together are fraying and cracking apart like old, rusty metal. His eyes are more black than green some days.

When they're black, he turns to Gabriel. He needs the Archangel's heavy hand, needs to be put in his place and treated like a servant, like something that needs to and will obey no matter what. He will whine when Gabriel presses a hand to his forehead and sends him to his knees, gasping and snarling and not fighting back because he _can't_, he doesn't want to. When Gabriel's eyes glow, the _presence_ inside of Dean purrs and rolls over for it, and Dean will claw at the Archangel's vessel, desperate for more of that heavy hand, for more of that all-powerful touch that can render his barbed mind smooth and cleansed again.

But when Dean is a Hunter…when he is more human than animal and left to deal in the aftermath of his desires, shaking from the urges still leaving aftershocks through his body like an orgasm, Castiel is the one to soothe him, the one to stroke his hair and meet his eyes and whisper Enochian affections into his neck. To Gabriel, he submits, but with Castiel…he trusts.

But it's not enough.

Sam's hopped up on demon blood again. Dean can see the swirling evil in his soul and he knows his eyes are turning black. He's just about ready to fall to his knees and swear fealty to Sam – he can't help it. The raw power that's oozing off his brother is like a heavy aphrodisiac, and it leaves Dean panting and frothing at the mouth, snarling with serrated, bloodied teeth and black eyes. He's whining when he pulls his own reins, tossing his head because the spiked bit inside his own mouth _hurts_.

_Please_, he begs himself, the darkness coiling, thick and seductive, around the part of Dean that is still human, _let us touch. Just once. Just a taste._

And it's like telling Dean not to save someone. It's like telling Dean to kill his little brother. _No,_ he replies, gritting his teeth, shoving back against the bit, freeing his head once more, and he doesn't approach his baby brother who's panting and shaking with a lowered arm and blood around his mouth. Dean's expression is dark and he likes to think it's showing disapproval, but really, it's a war. It's a war he's fighting within himself and he has no fucking idea who's gonna win. He's not sure he wants to know that because – _fuck_, what if it's the wrong answer?

Sam swallows. "Dean -." His voice trembles with power and Dean feels a shudder race through him, the _presence_ arching up like a contented cat, purring in submission and willingness and it would be so _easy_, to fall to his knees in front of Sam and offer up everything he is.

Instead, he holds up a hand, and releases himself from the hold of Sam's eyes. "Save it, Sam," he whispers, and he hopes his little brother doesn't see how his voice shakes, how blown his pupils are. It's like resisting lust, resisting Sam – it's like being offered the dream woman (or man) with no strings attached and turning it down.

Dean takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. _Please_, he whispers into his mind, to no one in particular even though he knows two someones are listening very intently. _I need help. Please_.

They come. They always come. Gabriel arrives first and Dean almost sobs when the Archangel's commanding presence looms over him. Immediately the darkness' attention shifts towards the bright, pulsating light, and Dean looks towards him with relief and gratitude in his eyes. Gabriel smiles a little.

"Having fun here, boys?" he asks, putting a hand on his hip and looking at the carnage of slain demons. The scent of their blood and abandoned hosts burns at Dean's sensitive nose and he's trying to breathe through his mouth as much as possible.

"Gabriel," Sam says in response, wiping at the blood around his mouth and Dean bites back a whimper, sighing only when Gabriel steps closer to him, and closes his eyes once more, forcing himself to relax. He knows his eyes are turning black and so he doesn't look up until he hears wings cutting through the air one more time, and his release is absolute. Castiel's here. Dean feels like he could cry. "Cas."

"Sam." The short greeting is all that's necessary. Castiel looks around, taking in the bodies, then looks back to the abomination he's falling to protect. "Was this an ambush?"

Sam nods, concern in his eyes as he surveys his panting brother, how he's flanked by the two Angels, and it seems like it's three against one. Sam feels hunted, defended against, like he's attacking Dean without realizing it. He takes a step back just because he feels a little safer there. "Yeah. They just jumped us outta nowhere," he says, pushing hair out of his face. "Can you guys mojo us back to the room, maybe?"

The Angels nod. Gabriel touches Sam's forehead, and Castiel lays a hand on Dean's shoulder, and the four of them disappear.

* * *

There's only so much Sam knows. They refuse to tell him more than what's strictly necessary. They had to explain the mark on Dean's neck because it's not exactly inconspicuous, and Sam had been curious. Castiel had, truthfully, told him that the Angels' influence was intended to help Dean cope with the horrors of Hell, and that it tended to get worse whenever Sam and Dean were fighting demons. Sometimes it demanded their physical presence, to revel in that connection and keep Dean safe and pure and away from the dark.

All of this is completely true. It's just not the whole truth, and Sam knows it. But he's smart enough to know when to leave well enough alone, and he's not sure he wants to know if his brother's having weird kinky threesome _gay_ Angel sex or something. Or, if it's something darker than that, he still doesn't want to know. Dean's coping. He's okay with being kept ignorant.

But Dean's _not_ coping. He's shaking so hard he damn near fires his gun when Gabriel appears in Dean's room after dropping Sam off. His arms are folded and his brows are knit together in concern. Castiel has yet to take his hand off Dean's shoulder.

Dean's staring at some point between Gabriel's feet, and there's sweat coating his face in a fine sheen. He looks ill and his eyes are becoming black around the edge. When he swallows, the sweat stings at Gabriel's handprint.

"Help me," he whispers, turning imploring half-green eyes to first Castiel, then Gabriel.

The Seraph sighs, shaking his head. "Dean…" He hesitates, squeezing lightly at Dean's shoulder. "We have already done so much. There's only so much we can risk doing before you become completely dependent on us, completely…"

"What?" Dean asks, with a dreadful kind of certainty in his voice.

"_Owned,_ Dean," Gabriel finishes, stepping forward to stand in front of the Hunter. There's sincerity in his voice and an awful kind of gentleness that makes Dean shiver with the implications. "Until we own you, body, soul, mind, until you can't breathe without looking to us for permission. You don't want to live like that."

But, God help him, he _does_. Behind his face, there's thoughts of obedience and orders – just be the good soldier. John's voice taunts him from the darkness' mass – take orders, _be a good boy, Dean_. Look after Sammy. Can't look after Sammy if you're a slave – can't look after him if you _aren't_.

He barks out a harsh, bitter laugh. "We all know how this will end," he says, seeing the resignation on Castiel's face and the harsh twist to Gabriel's mouth. They both care about him – they don't want him to be a mindless drone. The thought strikes Dean as novel. He pushes himself forward, so he's kneeling in front of the two Angels and looking up at them. "Please. You have to. I know you don't want to, but you have to. Please…I…I can't go on like this."

The look in Castiel's eyes breaks his heart. The Seraph kneels down in front of Dean and takes his chin in hand. "We don't want to dominate you, Dean," Castiel whispers, his eyes shining and it's not just from Grace. "You don't want to -."

"I have to," Dean replies fiercely. "I…I _do_ want to." At least, _some_ part of him does. Wants to be _owned_ and _wanted_ so entirely, so absolutely, that there's never another hesitation in his mind over where he stands with the Angels. Granted, he's not entirely sure now, but they love him – he's sure of that. Otherwise they wouldn't be arguing with him, and they wouldn't come every time he called, first time – both of them. They wouldn't be willing to sate his needs and his thirst for power. "Please, Cas…Gabriel, I'm trusting you with my life and my soul, here," he says, feeling a little embarrassed to say it, but the look in Castiel's eyes makes it worth it. "Own me."

Castiel's kiss is fierce – Dean hadn't expected such wildness and intensity to the contact – it's electric, sending nervous skitters up his spine. He mewls, falling back against the end of the bed and Castiel, the persistent bastard, follows him, holds Dean close like he's _finally_ got him and he doesn't have the slightest intention of letting him go, now that he's got his prize, his kill. The touches have possession in their heat and Dean shivers, leaning his head back, letting Castiel kneel and loom over him, dominating and controlling the kiss with a hand cupping Dean's jaw, just pressing into his neck with his thumb, the other on Dean's marked shoulder. The demon inside of Dean jerks in response to it, not used to such power from the lesser Angel, and the surprise of it, the feral kind of thrill, is making the hairs on the back of Dean's neck stand on end, and makes him moan and part his lips, letting in Castiel's surprisingly skilled tongue.

The Seraph seats himself on Dean's thighs, cradling his head in his hands, one palm flattened over Gabriel's mark on his neck, and it terrifies Dean how the darkness _snarls_ at that foreign Grace at _that mark_. He finds himself baring his teeth and biting back at Castiel without being able to help it. His hands try to come up, try to force Castiel away, to warn him, but then Gabriel's there.

The Archangel's presence is, in a word, terrifying. Gabriel is absolute, all-consuming, raw fire along the edges of Dean's ragged soul, and the Hunter cries out when he feels Gabriel next to him, laying hands on him that are no less possessive, no less claiming and commanding than Castiel's, and he mewls, and whines, and sobs, because he's so afraid. These creatures, these _things_, are so much more powerful than him. They could rip him to shreds with hardly a thought, but Castiel's hands are gentle. Gabriel is restraining. They're not hurting him. Not really.

"Come to me, Dean," Castiel whispers, drawing away from their kiss with panting breaths and wet mouths, and whispers the words into Dean's left ear, still holding onto Dean's neck. "Follow me here. Come."

The Hunter, the part of him that is still human, and still _Dean_, whines, and turns towards the Seraph, unable to do anything else. He can't go anywhere without dragging that darkness along behind him, though – he lets out a whimper of distress.

"I can't," he moans, like a dying animal, opening eyes that are a horrifying mix of green and black, shining with tears and wide with terror and ignorance. Castiel's there, petting through his hair, soothing him with kind words and gentle touches – keeping him anchored in reality when their forms are being ripped apart.

"Yes, Dean, you can. You will." Power threads through Castiel's voice – a whine on the tail-end. It's agonizing to resist, so Dean picks up the weight of that dark presence and crawls towards the Angel, his Angel, towards the light of him. Castiel welcomes him with open arms.

"Now, you, to me." Gabriel's voice jolts Dean out of whatever measure of peace he may or may not have experienced, in the split second where Castiel's wings wrapped around him and there was no pain. The darkness snarls and roils inside of Dean, rabid for its master, clearly picking out Gabriel as the dominant. The Archangel's not discouraging it – he's goading the hound onward, coaxing it forward, and dragging Dean along with it. Dean fights back, pulls his darker half in and wraps reins around it, snarling and baring his teeth in the struggle. "Come, now, to me."

_No_. "I can't."

"Trust us, Dean. We will not let you fall."

The soldered edge where the two halves of Dean Winchester join together suddenly snap. It's vicious and it tears at Dean, leaving ragged, fresh wounds, and he clutches at himself as though they were physical. Then the two sides rush away from each other. The darkness rolls over at Gabriel's feet and Dean rushes into Castiel's arms, sobbing out his broken relief at not having that weight on him again.

Castiel's hand in warm on his head, his arms strong, wrapped around Dean's body. Gabriel, too, is embracing him. The two Angels begin to chant.

Pain, white-hot and all-consuming surrounds Dean. He shies away and tries to escape it but Castiel holds him fast, surrounding him on all sides in his wings and his Grace. He mewls as sharp edges dig in and make him bleed. _"Cas_," he whispers, terrified beyond belief, unable to process what's happening to him. Distantly, he can feel the dark side of him be branded the same way by the Archangel – he can hear its agonized screams across his psyche. He wants to run to it, unbelievably, because there was strength in their numbers and the thing had power. Dean can't defend himself like this – he is completely at the mercy of Castiel. Of Gabriel.

He thinks, on a dim, distant level, that that's probably the point.

"Trust us."

"Obey us."

"_Yes."_

_Yes._

Suddenly the pain recedes. A small part of Castiel has threaded itself into Dean, and the Hunter's soul is tied to Castiel. Across the expanse that is, at once, ten feet and a thousand miles, the darkness is coiled inside of Gabriel's Grace as well. They are pulled and then threaded together, wrapped up in their Angels, serving both, and there's no pain in it. There's no white-hot flash of forcibly joining, of violation. It's simple and it's effective and it's…

God, it's actually happening.

Dean never wanted to be a slave. That was what the whole 'Suck it, Michael' thing was. He didn't want to be an 'Angel condom', but Cas and Gabe…they're not using him. Hell, they'd tried to _stop_ him. They're the good guys. The _presence_ inside of him purrs its agreement, sliding perfectly along Dean's entrapped essence, wrapped in Castiel's shining Grace, and then Dean feels it start to slumber like a great beast.

When he opens his eyes, the Angels are leaning on him, heavy weights made heavier by the wings sprouting from their backs. He coughs, realizing his throat is hoarse and doesn't want to think about how that happened. Castiel's still sitting on him, breathing heavily against his neck. All three of them are sweaty, and Dean feels…relaxed. He feels like he could let go of the reins and not have the whole team run away with him.

He moves his shaking hands, settling one on Castiel's hip, the other on Gabriel's thigh.

"Thank you," he whispers, speaking into Castiel's hair but Gabriel shifts a little and he knows they're both listening. "Whatever you did, thank you."

Gabriel lifts his head, and he's smiling indulgently, like he's looking at Dean in a completely different way, as though what he sees, he cares about. A lot. He rests his forehead against Dean's and lets their lips brush, just a little, because the human side of Dean doesn't belong to him – he belongs to Castiel, and that's okay. The bindings surrounding Dean's soul shift a little and stretch, as though testing the elasticity, but the bindings hold strong and Dean's hand shifts from Gabriel's thigh to the back of his head, and he presses forward, tentatively, letting their lips meet in a much more gentle way than perhaps the situation calls for – he wants Gabriel to know that the Archangel's not just a method of restraint. Dean does care, despite everything.

It's strange – with two sets of desires rolling in his head, he's not quite sure which thoughts are his and which are _its_. But it doesn't matter. Castiel's forehead is resting against Dean's neck, and the Angel's running a hand up and down Dean's side, curving along his back, and Dean allows himself to relax.

Castiel's purring his happiness at that, pressing his lips against Gabriel's mark on Dean's neck, and the Hunter shivers at the lance of pleasure-pain, the darkness roiling inside of his mind but being held steady by Gabriel's own touch.

"It's always gonna be like this, isn't it?" he whispers when Gabriel pulls away with a final parting nip to his bottom lip, and he pulls away to look at Castiel, then Gabriel again. His eyes are bright green, but his pupils are just a little larger and, if Castiel and Gabriel look closer, they can see where the pupil actually ends, and the black ring becomes the darkness. It just looks like there's low light or Dean's stoned or turned on. It's a negligible side effect, a blessing out of what could have been disaster.

"Always going to be like what, Dean?"

"This," the Hunter repeats, gesturing between the three of them. "Dependency. Torn." His voice is low and raspy and he feels like he needs to cough, so he swallows and wets his throat. "I feel like I…" He winces, pressing the hand that had been on Castiel to his chest, but leaning closer to that Angel to compensate.

"We will try and make this as easy as possible, but yes," Gabriel replies, smiling a little in the way that he would as the Trickster. Strangely, it puts Dean at ease, because if Gabriel's in the mood for jokes, then that means things can't be all that bad.

The darkness in him stirs a little at the sound of Gabriel's voice and the Archangel's eyes close, and Dean shivers when he can feel the creature caressing over his bound soul, the part that belongs to Gabriel.

"Sleep now, Dean. We will finish this in the morning," Castiel whispers, and Dean has just enough time to think _'Finish?'_ before there's two fingers pressed to his forehead and he's lost to dreams that are devoid of nightmares, and full of peace and warm feathers.


	4. Completion

Title: Completion  
Author: HigherMagic  
Pairings: Demon!Dean/Castiel/Gabriel  
Rating:NC-17  
Word Count: **~3,000**  
Spoilers:Gabriel exists. Dean was in Hell.  
Summary:  
Notes/Warnings: Sequel to More Than Whole and You Will Obey. You Can't Not. and Lock Me In  
Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

* * *

When Dean wakes up, he braces himself for more of a battle of wills, more press-pull-push of dominance and submission, fighting against himself constantly, but it's not like that. The darkness greets him like a lazy serpent, curling around Dean's essence, sliding along and around him and Dean shivers, swallowing, his body tensing up a little more as soft pleasure blankets him. He feels warmth all around him and starts to sweat and breathe a little harder, and there's a bank of heat in front of him and one behind him. He presses back into the heat because that's where the darkness is, coiling around him like a warm fist, and Dean moans softly, eyelids fluttering open, trying to orientate himself.

His eyes lock onto Castiel's face first, as the Angel's laying down in front of him and staring right on back at him. Dean swallows, feeling the darkness flare inside of him and coil just a bit tighter, that pleasure peaking under the Angel's intense gaze, and then there's an arm around Dean's chest, pulling him back, and Dean turns his head to see Gabriel. The demon side of Dean positively lights up, swelling for its master, and Dean gasps at the tight constriction, the bone-deep desire and _need_ to please, coiling up inside of him, driving through him in powerful throbbing pulses that feel like sex, like Dean's being fucked to within an inch of his life. He's breathless with the sensation.

He clears his throat and tries to ask what's going on, but all that comes out is a needy half-sound. The hand on Gabriel's side fumbles for the Archangel's clothing and fists tightly in his shirt, tugging gently because his muscles aren't really obeying him. Dean's breathing is coming a little harder and he can feel himself hardening in the jeans that the Angels let him fall asleep in, but he's shirtless, and his heart is pounding.

He makes another soft noise, and feels gentle fingers at his chin, turning him back to face Castiel. The Seraph glances briefly at his brother, and Gabriel gives a nod – even though the dark part of Dean is more aware at this moment, _Dean_ is Castiel's charge and Hunter. Gabriel has no claim to the human side of him and the Archangel understands that.

Their kiss is gentler than it had been last night. Castiel's coaxing, soft, almost teasing. His hand cups Dean's jaw and pulls the Hunter closer to him, licking lightly at Dean's lower lip until the Hunter opens, and the rough of his tongue is a dirty, slow slide into Dean's mouth that almost has Dean shying back, hunching his shoulders, unsure how to respond to Castiel as the aggressor. But the Angel is patient, drawing Dean into him, closer like a moth to a flame and Dean's helpless but to obey – the darkness is purring at the treatment and Dean's body _throbs _with the need to take, to be taken, to be claimed, to wring satisfaction from these powerful creatures. He _needs_ to please them, so Dean doesn't deny Castiel – he opens up so nicely, tilting his head and closing his eyes and relaxing into it, meeting strike for strike, exploring as he wasn't able to before, and make Castiel shiver. He likes it when Castiel shivers.

The Angel's eyes are half-lidded and half-black when Dean's need for air interrupts them, and the Hunter is flushed and panting, his body quaking with the desire to be full and sated, to sate and fill in return. "Please," he whispers, but he's not sure what he's begging for – he just knows the Angels can give it to him.

He grabs at Castiel, his hands greedy and needing, wanting, and the Angel just goes. He rolls on top of Dean and settles between the Hunter's eagerly, absently spread legs, and Dean whines, tilting his head back, swallowing. His Adam's apple bobs and shines with sweat, edging into Gabriel's handprint, and Castiel leans down and bites at it, feeling the animal desire to mark and claim building up inside of him, dormant desires to mate rising up and rearing its head.

The darkness flares at the brand being touched by a foreign presence, a foreign tongue, and it twists, rebelling from within Gabriel's restraints, but Dean just feels it as wild passion, a fierce kind of lust that has spines and heat and digs into him, incensing and consuming.

"Don't touch him there," Gabriel whispers, pushing at Castiel's head to the unmarked side of Dean's neck, and though the Seraph grumbles, he goes, moving his hands to Dean's thighs and hauling them up as though Dean weighs nothing, and Dean whines, arching and bucking his hips when Castiel's hard heat falls in line with his own, because _fuck,_ that feels nice.

"Cas…" Dean moans, like a broken thing, turning his head to one side and baring his throat, and Gabriel's there to meet him. The Archangel's watching him like he's waiting for something to happen, and Dean reaches out and takes hold of his arm. "Gabriel."

The Archangel's kiss is not like Castiel's – Castiel kisses like he owns Dean, like he knows this and nothing will ever change that, like it's equal and opposite, claiming and being claimed, and it feels like the Angel has infinite patience to taste and explore while Dean falls apart at his mouth. Gabriel is not like that. The Archangel…is overwhelming. So completely absolute that it's terrifying. Dean can do little more than cower in the front of that white-hot _whole_.

The darkness, however, is not cowed. It rises up to greet its master, purring like a jungle cat and fighting like a dog, teasing, playful, goading. Dean whimpers, fighting against the darkness because _no_, they can't anger or provoke this powerful creature, can't make him angry or let him loose, but the dark, demonic part of Dean is all for it. It is push-and-retreat, growling and fleeing. It will tear at Gabriel and dole out wounds and then draw away and leave the Archangel to chase. Dean feels Gabriel moving in like a tsunami, like a tidal wave that burns.

Castiel's still there, anchoring the human side of Dean amidst the maelstrom of the Archangel's presence, sealing them both together and Dean can't fathom how humans used to mate to Angels all the time, because _this_ is fucking frightening – he wants to run, wants to curl up into nothing and hide.

"Dean." Castiel's voice yanks him out, places him back in the here and now and Dean breaks from Gabriel's kiss with a gasp. Sweat is plastering his hair to his face and his eyes are wide and wild, and he's breathing like he's forced his body to sprint a marathon and is about to do more.

The Hunter's shaking so badly, it's like he's having a seizure. One hand is at Castiel's shoulder, the other curling around Gabriel's neck, in a mirror of where the Angels' own marks are on him and he's panting against Gabriel's cheek, eyes closed, just trying to _be_ and not be overcome.

"Shh, it's okay." Gabriel's voice comes a second after Castiel wills all of their clothes away, and Dean whines at the feeling of bare skin against skin, but it's not just that – Castiel and Gabriel are both bright and blazing with Grace, even cut off from Heaven as they are. "Be still, Hunter." And Dean's trying – _Lord_, he's trying – but it's really fucking difficult with the darkness playing runaround, and Castiel grounding him and it's like the world is whirling by him but he's staying still, so it's all a blur and he can't concentrate on any one point and he's trying to latch on but it's spinning too fast. "_Be still_."

The darkness slides to a stop at the order, flattening out and purring, on its back for Gabriel as Dean feels Castiel's first fingers breaching him, splitting him apart and Gabriel's essence drives into Dean's demon side as well. Dean feels too full, so stretched and sated and ripped apart and it's…_God,_ it's _good_. It's fucking amazing, actually. He needs to touch. He whines, clenching his eyes tightly shut and feeling blindly, shoving the Archangel and laying sloppy kisses to whatever part of Gabriel is under his mouth. He doesn't know – he doesn't _care_. He just _needs_.

"Castiel, stop teasing him." Gabriel's voice is shaking and the darkness curls up around the bindings of Gabriel's Grace, tugging the Archangel's presence closer, and Gabriel, God bless him, he just goes. He submits to Dean's needy pull because he knows the feeling of desiring something, of craving something so completely that being denied is like a knife to the brain.

Dean whimpers when Castiel pulls his slick fingers out of him, wrapping his legs around the Angel, demanding he stay. He _wants_, so badly. His mouth is pressed against Gabriel's stomach and he muffles his desperate cries against the Grace-heated skin when finally_, finally, thank God,_ Dean feels something wider start to split him open. His eyes flare open and he throws his head back, gasping at the sensation of being so consumed, and his hands find Castiel, digging into soft, warm flesh, pulling, twisting, digging in with nails when necessary. The feeling…being stretched so full. It's glorious – both sides of Dean roil and whip around inside of him and the Hunter can do little more than breathe, but _fuck_, does he still need. He fists a hand in Castiel's dark, messy hair and drags him down, drowning in the Angel's kiss as Castiel drives to the hilt inside of him, and Dean _finally_ feels like everything's okay. Even as he is, unable to do more than breathe and stare, unable to speak or move or think, he feels _alright_. Whole. More than that.

The blackness flares up again when Gabriel shifts closer, taking permission from his silent brother that he can touch Dean. Castiel rolls them so that he's on his back, Dean straddling him and the Hunter whimpers when the action causes him to sink down a little more. He throws his head back, tears in his black-ringed eyes, and swallows, bracing his clenched fists on Castiel's chest. He's clenching tightly, so tightly around Castiel – the Seraph feels suffocated, buried in the Hunter's tight heat, and he knows from the look in Gabriel's eyes that it's about to get tighter and hotter, and he'd be lying if he said the idea didn't make him burn even brighter.

Gabriel claims Dean's attention by flattening his palm to the mark on Dean's neck, and Dean's eyes go completely black when he stares at the Archangel, still seated on Castiel, either unable or unwilling to move – none of them are quite sure. Castiel's hands are digging bruises into Dean's hips, making the Hunter whine and roll and clench and it's _glorious._

The Archangel smiles, pressing a kiss to the corner of Dean's mouth but pulls away before the Hunter can meet him, and instead moves so he's behind Dean, also seated on Castiel who bears the weight as though it isn't there, and perhaps it isn't to him. Dean whines and Castiel can't see what's happening, but Gabriel's hand tightens on Dean's neck, wrapped under his opposite arm so Gabriel can seal his hand over the brand, and suddenly there's more than just Castiel inside of Dean – the Seraph bucks his hips involuntarily, feeling Gabriel's slick fingers sliding in alongside him, and his eyes are wide, fixed on the pair above him.

Dean moans brokenly, wanting to bend forward, to hide and shield himself because like this he's so completely exposed, but Gabriel's hold isn't letting him. He can't rise away because Castiel's holding him down – there's no escape, and the trapped part of him loves that, revels in being held down and used for the Angels' pleasure. Gabriel's Grace is flowing into him, soothing his muscles and forcing him to spread without injuring himself, because Dean's going from zero to sixty here and his body isn't used to it, but the Archangel is gentle – as gentle as he has to be, handling both sides of Dean. If it were just the demon, it would be an all-out fight for dominance, a clash of two powerful wills and powers and Gabriel and Castiel and Dean all know this. This gentleness and patience – that's all for Dean's sake, and the Hunter appreciates it.

At least, he will when he's lucid again.

Castiel and Dean both let out twin moans when Gabriel's fingers withdraw, replaced with his hard cock, which slides into Dean as though the Hunter is used to taking so much, and Dean moans, bending forward because he _has _to, and he grits his teeth, fisting one hand in the sheets beside Castiel's head, the other holding onto the Archangel's thigh behind him. Castiel bucks his hips up involuntarily, tossing his head back as he feels Dean stretch and tighten around him, taking both him and his brother, and _fuck_, he's so _warm_ inside, and slick through their Graces. When Gabriel thrusts in, in short, sharp bursts until he's fully seated, it's like nirvana. It's a total circuit between the three of them and it's amazing.

When Dean opens his eyes, one is green, the other is black. A perfect balance for his Angels, and he's blowing out his breath like a winded horse, shaking and tightening around them so perfectly, but taking it so well. His body is flushed and covered in sweat but he's beautiful, so fucking beautiful. Castiel's hand goes through his hair, and the Angel rises up, sitting in an impossible-for-humans bend and kisses Dean, and the other two men shift to compensate, so Gabriel slides a little deeper inside of Dean and the Hunter jolts as _something _inside of him is pressed against, flashing white-hot and sudden.

_"God_," he cries, turning his head and burying his face in Castiel's neck, letting the Angels just move him and ride him as they please, because he can't get his legs or arms to work – he can barely speak or _think_. "Oh, fuck, Cas, Gabriel…_God,_ yes -."

"Shh, Dean-o, you know better," Gabriel growls, fisting a hand in Dean's hair and yanking his head back, punishing the Hunter with an extra hard thrust into his tight, willing, pliant body, and Dean whines and flinches, ducking his head in submission.

_Sorry, master, sorry, so sorry…_

"Shh, it's alright." The Archangel strokes through his hair and places a kiss to the brand on his neck. "It's alright, baby." Dean nods, swallowing again – he understands. _Fuck, Gabriel, just keep doing that._ "You're a good boy, Dean. You're alright."

"So perfect, Dean," Castiel whispers, joining in his brother's praise, and Dean whines, purrs, _whimpers_ for more of it – yes, yes, _need to please, need to do good, _yes. "_Perfect_. Come on, Dean, come on…" The Hunter sighs softly, nosing along Castiel's neck and rests his forehead there, and moans again when Castiel's hand closes around him, only jerking him twice before he's overwhelmed, coming onto Castiel's stomach and hand and chest with a low, broken groan. "There we go, Dean, so beautiful, yes…"

Dean's body locks up so completely as he comes, stock-still and immobile, that he forces both Angels' orgasms from them simultaneously, and both Angels come with a low groan against his sweaty, flushed skin, Castiel baring his teeth, Gabriel biting down on the back of Dean's neck and shedding blood. The darkness rolls over for the blood pact, loving how Gabriel nuzzles into him, tastes him, _owns_ him, and how Castiel pets him and soothes him through the aftershocks. Gabriel slides out easily once he softens, and Dean winces at the wet sound it makes, feeling sore and split open but still loving it. He feels…_God,_ he feels ripped apart, but held together in the circle of the Angels' arms.

When Gabriel makes to move away, Dean catches his arm. "Stay," he whispers, voice low and rough and fucked-out. He blinks away tears from his eyes and tugs at Gabriel. "Stay."

The Archangel looks over Dean's shoulder, to Castiel, who pushes himself up a little more so he's leaning against the headboard, supporting Dean easily as though the human weighs nothing, and the Seraph doesn't say a thing, but his eyes are certain and lack any storm. His lips quirk up a little in a smile.

Gabriel sighs, and closes his eyes, and nuzzles into Dean's neck. "Alright, Dean. I'll stay."

And when Dean sees Sam the next day, there is nothing. No throbbing _need_ to obey – no desire to fall to his knees for Sam, no need to swear fealty to his demon general. Dean is completely and utterly _theirs_, not Sam's, and he's…fuck, he's alright with that. He's sated and content. He has an Archangel and an Angel sharing his bed and sharing his soul and they're _his_ and he's _theirs._ He will fight to the death for Sam and they'll be right along with him. They will win this.

He will obey, and together, they will win.

* * *

**Alright guys, I think this marks the end of the Obedience!Verse. I gave you porn, and it was shit-hard to write, and I honestly don't think I can wring any more out of this aside from writing more porn, which, as I mentioned before, was shit-hard. So…yeah :D **


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